


Table for Two

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-12
Updated: 2010-08-12
Packaged: 2017-10-11 01:37:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack's reserved the table but what's the occasion?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Table for Two

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty schmoopy. Consider yourself warned.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Where are you?”

“About five minutes away. Look, I know I’m late as fuck but everything that could go wrong has gone wrong and I’ll be there as soon as. Order for me.”

Jack leaned back in his seat and took his chilled glass of expensive, imported Hoegaarden with him.

“Can’t do, Daniel. Where’s the fun in that? Half the joy of a meal out with you is spending twenty minutes dissecting the menu then watching you change your mind four times during ordering.” He took another draught of beer and enjoyed the sensation as it slipped down his dry throat.

“You’re exaggerating. I seem to remember it was you who had Giovanni begging for death as a merciful release when you changed your mind over the rack of lamb last time. Five minutes before it was due to leave the kitchen for the table.”

“That was different. The fillet of pork was calling to me.”

“Lucky we weren’t banned by Santoro for good. Fuck!”

Jack heard the doppler wail of a car horn fade into the distance. “What’s up?”

“Fuckin’ idiot with no lights on. Didn’t see him as I was overtaking Ma and Pa Kettle out for a Wednesday night ride.” His voice got louder and more accusatory as the sentence went on and Jack could easily picture Daniel cursing the alleged slowpokes in the rear view mirror.

“God’s sake, don’t get yourself killed before you damn well get here. I’ve waited,” he checked his wristwatch, “forty-six minutes, another four isn’t going to make much difference. Although Giovanni looks like he’s about to press the ejector seat button on me any minute.”

“Why did you have to pick Santoro’s anyway? I mean, yeah, it’s great but it’s out of town and costs an average month’s salary?”

“Because.”

There was a pause.

“Because what?”

“Just … because. Now get your adorable ass here ASAP, and lose the death wish driving. By the way, what the hell is on the CD player?” Jack knew perfectly what it was. It was the album Daniel always chose first when driving more than twenty minutes from home or work.

“You know what the hell it is. Get over it. I'm almost there. Glory Days just ended.”

Jack smiled to himself.  “In the wink of a young girl’s eye.”

Daniel huffed a laugh. “Fuck off.”

Jack snapped his cell phone shut and caught Giovanni’s eye. He glided over, radiating disapproval. Punctuality was all when there were two sittings to accommodate.

“Another couple of minutes I swear. We’ll take a bottle of Veuve Clicquot yellow label. To start. Make sure there’s another one on standby.”

Giovanni’s demeanour changed as if by magic. The gratuity was going to be good. “Of course.” He swept away.

Jack went back to eyeing the surroundings. The word upmarket was invented for this place and the people inhabiting it. The country hotel half an hour out of the Springs was set in its own spectacular grounds. Private. Tasteful. Expensive.

The restaurant, named for its volatile and garrulous head chef, was big but felt smaller, occupied as it was by tables of varying size, all set with crisp, white linen and finest quality glassware and cutlery. The lighting was subtle, coming mainly from candles on the tables. An eclectic mix of modern and classical art, which shouldn’t have worked but somehow did, graced the cream walls. Soft jazz played quietly in the background. Jack had an overwhelming urge to request some Dizzy Gillespie scat just to check out the reaction of the clientele.

Taking another healthy chug from his glass – it somehow didn’t taste the same when it didn’t come straight from the bottle – he checked out his fellow diners.

Professional, well-dressed, mainly middle-aged and older, the place reeked of money and social aspiration. Lots of couples, some family parties, not a same-sex couple in sight.

He smiled over the rim of the glass. Maybe he’d kiss Daniel when he walked in. Maybe he’d just shove him down on the table and scatter its contents everywhere. He shifted slightly in his seat and shook his head slightly.

Tonight was not about sex. It was about romance. It was about love. Mainly, it was about Daniel.

“Your champagne, sir.” Giovanni wheeled the ice bucket and its expensive contents to the table. “Would you like me to open it now?”

Jack shook his head. “Later.” His eye was drawn to the entrance as Daniel entered, looking a little flustered, eyes searching Jack out. An eager-to-please, pretty waitress led the way. She might as well not have been there. Attractive she may have been. Daniel was stunning.

“Dress up,” Jack had said, announcing the evening’s plans over dinner at Daniel’s place last night.

“How up?” Daniel had asked, throwing him a look that mixed suspicion and surprise.

“As up as you think can get away with without making me spontaneously orgasm at the sight of you.”

“Oh.” He’d frowned and gone back to his papers.

Up. Daniel was very up. Pleated black chinos were topped by a soft, grey round-collared shirt and a black tailored jacket. Jackson at Boss. He’d turned a few heads, not all of them female.

Jack rose to his feet, inwardly wincing as he did so. He suspected it embarrassed Daniel when he did that, but it was habit. He’d always done it for Sara. It was old-fashioned; Ms Henderson from equality would probably hate it. He did it because he wanted to.

“Hey. You made it.” Jack smiled and wondered if Daniel knew what it cost him not to reach out and touch him.

“Yeah. Sorry. It all went to hell in a hand basket after I spoke to you at lunchtime.” Daniel sat down and reached for the menu straight away.

“You didn’t eat, did you?” It wasn’t an accusation, more an acknowledgement.

“Got bogged down. The IOA brought forward a report deadline at about the same time as my laptop threw a hissy fit. By the time the tech boys had fixed it, I was running so late I just worked through.” Daniel talked as his eyes scanned the offerings.

“You could have called Teal’c. He’d have brought you a sandwich.”

“He was busy. Besides, he has better things to do than run around after me. You decided?”

“I’m torn.”

“Between?”

“The sea bass and the duck.”

“Hmm.”

“You?”

“The trout or the fillet of beef.”

“Lucky we aren’t as indecisive ‘out there’ as we are about main course choices, huh?”

Daniel smiled again, reaching to pour a glass of iced water from a jug, only to find Jack had already done it and was thrusting it into his hand.

He raised it in salute. “Cheers.”

Jack picked up his beer. “Cheers.”

“Although I have no idea what we’re toasting.”

“There has to be a reason? I’m back from Washington for three days, you’re on world. We had great sex last night, will have even better sex tonight and tomorrow … that’s not enough?”

“For something like this on a Wednesday? Nooo.”

Busted.

“Can you not just enjoy this? We’re together. The Ori are history. You’re my walking wet dream looking like that. Did I mention you look hot enough to melt the passion fruit sorbet, by the way?” Jack’s eyes twinkled.

Daniel smiled, that half-embarrassed, half-delighted quirk of lips that sent Jack directly to his happy place without passing go.

“Thanks. You’re looking pretty edible yourself. That silk shirt it, um ..”

“What?”

“Never mind.” The wine list had suddenly become hugely interesting to Daniel.

“The shirt what? You chose it.”

Daniel had the grace to look a little sheepish and said, voice lowered, “Matches your eyes.”

Jack just smiled. That Daniel felt able to say that at all filled him with a private, quiet delight.

“Are you ready to order?” Giovanni had materialized unnoticed. He could teach Jack a thing or two about stealth.

“I’ll start with the crab and then the duck.” Jack handed over the menu and sat back to watch the show as Daniel made up his mind.

“Um, right, okay, the quail to start and the sea trout. Er, wait….”

Jack snorted quietly.

“Quail and, damn, this is hard. The fillet of beef sounds so good …” The agony went on. For Giovanni most of all. “Nope, I’ll stick with the …”

Daniel’s cell phone chose that moment to chirp into life, drawing disapproving glares from nearby diners. And Giovanni.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll just … Y’hello Daniel Jackson. Patrick? I left a full notation in my out tray. It’s the one above my in tray. It’s logophonetic, possibly Epi-Olmec, I set this out in the notat--”

The phone was neatly extracted from his hand.

“Nayman. O’Neill. I’m sorry, Dr Jackson is currently unavailable. Please try again after he’s returned from his fishing expedition.” He snapped the phone shut and looked up at a bemused waiter. “He’ll have the trout, hold the raisin and capers compote or the repercussions will be unpleasant.”

Giovanni beat a grateful, hasty retreat.

Daniel just looked at Jack. “I like raisins.”

“They don’t like you. I remember what happened with that ice cream even if you don’t.”

“It wasn’t the raisins. It was the rum. Rum has never agreed with me.” Snippy and huffy. Not exactly what Jack was aiming for.

“The trout will be great, sans compote. Now, relax and enjoy a  glass of this.”

Jack popped the cork on the champagne in expert fashion. It fizzed and danced in the crystal flute. Their fingers touched as Jack handed him the glass. They both felt it … the spark that arced between them, unbidden but never unnoticed.

“My, you’re not just pushing the boat out here, it’s an entire cruise ship.” Daniel looked  a little overwhelmed.

“Hey, we’re worth it. You’re worth it.” Jack tilted his glass at an angle and waited for Daniel to join him in the toast. The glasses clinked in the way that only finest crystal  can.

“What exactly are we toasting?” Daniel asked.

“Us.”

“We can do that with two Buds and a TV dinner. Why this? Come on, Jack. I know I haven’t missed our anniversary.”

“Which one?”

“What do mean, which one? How many have we got? We got together 18 months ago.”

“Yes we did. July 24th.”

“So, not that then.”

“Nope.”

“Your crab, sir.” Damn but the man in the penguin suit was quiet. Jack actually jumped as the food was placed  before him.  He watched as Daniel positively salivated over his quail. “Bon appetit.”

“Great. Food.”

“Oh no. Come on. I want to know what this is about.” They savored the exquisite fare for a moment and gave it due reverence as they set about demolishing it.

“How’s the crab?”

“Perfect. The quail?”

“To die for.” They looked at each other and winced silently. Dying and Daniel Jackson. Oy. Daniel hurriedly added, “Want a taste?”

Actually he did, but for the sake of appearance declined. There was something a little too intimate about taking food from another man’s fork in public. Jack was sure Daniel could postulate endlessly on the sharing of food from an anthropological point of view. Jack didn’t really care. He just liked watching Daniel’s mouth.

Daniel threw Jack a quizzical look as he wiped said mouth with the napkin.

“Is it the anniversary of the first time we kissed?”

Jack laid down his fork. “Nope. That was July 24th.

“Thought so.”

“First time we made love?”

“What?” Jack looked affronted. “You don’t remember?”

“Of course I do. It was the day after we kissed and spent the night in your bed.” Daniel looked suddenly unsure and didn’t want to get it wrong. “Right?”

“July 25th.”

The plates were whisked away. Daniel didn’t like it when he couldn’t solve a puzzle, of either galactic or more parochial importance. “Day we first held hands?”

“August 4th, when we went walking in the mountains.”

Daniel looked astonished. “My God. You really do remember this stuff.”

“Engraved on my heart, Daniel.” Jack gave him a melting smile and drank some more champagne. He reached for Daniel’s glass and topped it up.

“So. Not getting together, kissing, making love or holding hands.”

Jack grinned. “You’re going to have to give in.”

“No, no, no, wait, wait, wait.” Daniel held up a finger. “It’s not the first time we said the L word is it?”

“July 25th for me, August 23rd for you.”

Daniel looked shocked. “I waited that long?”

“Right after Mitchell’s birthday party. You got drunk on Siler’s hooch, tried to make love to me in the hallway of your house and told me you loved me right before you passed out.”

Daniel shifted uncomfortably. “Not exactly romantic, was it?” he muttered.

“Pretty much the most beautiful thing I ever heard,” Jack said softly. “Course, the unfortunate vomiting shortly afterward did take the edge off, kind of.”

The main courses arrived, placed with loving care before both men. They inhaled ecstatically.

They called an unspoken truce as they ate, commenting only on the perfection of the fish and duck, the crispness of the vegetables, and the fact that they were down to the last two glasses of champagne in the bottle.

As the plates and serving dishes were cleared, Jack emptied the final champagne drops into Daniel’s glass and turned the bottle upside down into the melting ice.

Daniel sighed heavily. “Okay. Okay. I’m out of ideas.”

Jack drained his glass, set it on the table very deliberately and leaned towards Daniel, locking eyes. Daniel’s face was unrealistically beautiful in the glow of the candlelight. In a low voice, the words meant only for Daniel’s ears he said, “It was one year ago today that, for the first time, you cried when you came and slept the whole night in my arms.”

Daniel swallowed hard. “That’s, that’s, um, I don’t know what to say.” He looked astonished, moved, a little lost.

“That’s when I knew that I had of all you. Finally. You gave yourself, little by little, but it wasn’t until that night when you let me see it all, have it all, that I truly knew. And I also know that if I ever lost that, it would break my heart, Daniel.”

Daniel looked away, flushing slightly. In a barely audible voice he said, “ You’ll never lose me, Jack. And I remember that night. I find it hard to … trust … some things about myself. To anyone. It took me a long time …”

“Hey,” Jack’s gaze demanded all his attention. “You don’t need to explain anything. That night was a gift, a fucking precious one, and I just wanted you to know that I know that.”

Daniel smiled. A genuine, warm, adoring smile. “I know.”

“And, as of ,” Jack checked his wristwatch, “twenty minutes ago, you, officially have all of me. Not that you didn’t already.”

Daniel raised his eyebrows. “You did it.” Not a question.

“Yeah. It was time. Beyond time. Moves have been in place to secure a successor for weeks. The announcement is made tomorrow. Paperwork was finalised last week. One of the reasons I’m here is to fill Landry in. You are looking at Major General Jack O’Neill retired. And he’s all yours. It seems only fair.”

“My God, Jack. I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll spend the night with me. Here. I’ve booked a room. It has a bed and all.”

Daniel laughed. “Big bed?”

“Huge.”

Giovanni appeared with the dessert menus. Jack said, not taking his eyes off Daniel, “We’ll take your two biggest raisinless desserts to go, and another bottle of champagne.”

Beneath the table, Daniel brushed his leg gently against Jack’s.

“I’m not hungry or thirsty anymore, Jack.”

“Wanna go celebrate?”

“Now. Right now.”

“Happy anniversary, Daniel.”

“Happy start of forever, Jack.”


End file.
